Misconduct
by GoldFlareon
Summary: It's well known that Miranda does her job well, and Shepard obeys her own orders. But what lengths will Miranda go to in order to keep the commander playing by the rules when she finds out about a secret Shepard has been keeping?
1. Part One

Greetings, fellow Mass Effect fans. This is my first Mass Effect story and...I will admit, the idea is odd and kinda stupid. xD I had trouble actually forming a plot out of this but basically this story is what happened when I found out in Mass Effect 2 that you could have a pet aboard the Normandy...and then when I realised that it was a space hamster you couldn't do anything with apart from watch.

Commander Shepard is sort of my own mix combined with the general in-game Shepard, so she might seem somewhat out of character. I wrote this months ago and only just now got around to editing it...so here it is, and it'll be in three parts. Thanks to all those who read and review! If you spot any errors, please let me know! (P.S. I know the title sucks. xD I couldn't think of anything else.)

Note: This story has slight Femshep/Miri for the sake of teh lols.

* * *

**Misconduct**

**Part One**

The near-silent ride of the elevator, even though it sometimes seemed to last longer than required, was an ambiguous experience. The soft sounds of gentle shifting combined with the subtle sensation of travelling down a shaft was as calming as any elevator ride could be, which often either made its occupants more nervous or agitated than usual, as its ignorantly tranquil music trivialised any important matter colouring one's day, or calmed them into a finer state of self-composure. It was not at all distracting; Cerberus had even managed to install a mute button if one was not so fond of the typical classical-styled music softly rolling from the overhead speakers. Personally it did not bother Miranda; after all, she did not need to concern herself with the pointless details of a short elevator ride.

The Cerberus operative had her head downturned to a datapad in her hands, one which held the specified details of the research that the commander had requested hours before. Normally Miranda would not involve herself with Shepard's affairs, but after she had reported to Garrus with a research request, he had passed it on to the XO. She wondered why Shepard had not simply asked her to begin with; she was clearly more adept at retrieving information, especially for her commander, and found herself instantly suspicious about the situation. She did not take kindly to situations that required her suspicion and scepticism, but tried to reserve judgement. She would figure out whatever was going on, even if it seemed to be a purposeful secret from her.

Finally the elevator sounded and Miranda proceeded out the exit while keeping her eyes on the datapad. She looked up with a frown at the sound of immediate noise and glanced ahead to the only cabin door on the top floor of the Normandy. Again she made an effort not to assess the situation just yet; as inquisitive as she was, she wanted to know the facts before determining anything.

Her frown grew as she heard shouting, wondering perhaps if the commander was taking out her anger on her personal terminal. It was uncommon for the Normandy's technology to become faulty, but when it did, the consequences were not at all easy to live with. Most of Miranda's work relied on the Normandy's computer systems, and even though she often suffered the most – _if _it happened, which was only when there was an error that interfered directly with EDI, who may have been occupied by the onslaught for a short time before she was able to restabilise her systems and override the interference – she knew that others were affected as well.

Confusion still dictating her expression, Miranda approached the door, noting the red digital lock in its centre. She was not unfamiliar with this upon the commander's door; it often signalled that she was sleeping or simply wanted time to herself. The latter frequently agitated Miranda; whatever she was doing in that time was some leisure activity not at all related to the mission. She often considered that the commander was busy playing video games or polishing her armour, but this time, the bizarre research request and random shouting had her otherwise convinced. Something must have been frustrating enough to warrant shouts.

"Commander Shepard?" she called, her voice strong. Silence suddenly bled from the locked room and she waited, knowing that her words had made aware the commander to her presence. When there was no answer, she raised a hand to knock.

Immediately the door snapped open, separating in the centre and parting ways in five fragments to reveal an armoured woman, helmet obscuring all around face, leaning against the doorframe. Her appearance was less than casual. "M-Miranda," she began, clearing her voice. A very mild frown passed over her face, which was clearly one of confusion. "What, uhh...what brings you here?"

Miranda's eyes scanned the commander from head to toe, and as her superior noted that she was carrying a datapad, she questioned, "...Commander, why are you dressed in armour?"

Shepard glanced down, as if only then noticing that she was, in fact, adorned in her battle apparel. The metallic, white-patterned purple accented by veins of maroon stood out against the plainness of her gloomy room. Seemingly clueless, she glanced up at her visitor, her expression betraying the obvious fact that she was unsure how to explain her situation or, more curiously, simply did not want to.

"Um...it's, uhh..." Her teeth showed as her lips remained parted, almost coming together a few times as the commander tested words. She then seemed to scoff, as if the situation was nothing out of the ordinary. "I just...you know, wanted to be more...colourful."

The clearest expression of berating cynicismsoaked Miranda's face as she stared at the commander, one eyebrow raised as the other pressed down, disbelief and astoundment mingled in. Silence wafted between them as the commander awkwardly fit a hand over her shoulder and scratched the back of her neck. Her lips pressed together as she tried and failed to remain regular.

"So..." she began, clearing her throat to appear more dignified. It did not work. "Is that for me?" She gestured to the orange datapad with fabricated curiosity.

Miranda was at first unsure how to react. She resolved to clenching her jaw and simply handing it over. When the commander thanked her and devised an expected excuse to return to her cabin, which was neither genuine nor convincing, the Cerberus officer snorted a sigh and finally requested, "Commander. If I may...I wanted to know why you asked for this information."

Shepard recoiled in some vain attempt to seem surprised but amused by her. "Nosey? That's _unlike_ you, Miranda," she teased. Miranda often liked to stick her nose in business that was not hers—if she could, Shepard was sure she would make an effort to involve herself in anything and everything, especially where the commander was involved.

"What is _not like _someone is the manner in which you've been behaving today, Commander," she accused with a pointed tone. The way she said it made it sound inoffensive and born of concern, but Shepard was otherwise aware.

She tested another frown. "Do you want to give me specifics on that?"

"Well," Miranda began, lowering her eyes to the datapad in her commander's hands before returning them to her face, "the research, for one." Conspicuous guilt instantly flowed over Shepard's face as she tried to restrain a very light smile. Miranda gave her head a very brief shake, as if in misunderstanding. "What do _varren _have to do with the mission?"

Figuring that inventing a fraudulent explanation would get her nowhere, she responded, "It's not related to the mission. And, as my second-in-command, you need to concern yourself _only_ with the mission, not the details of my personal affairs."

"You made it my business when you asked Garrus to research it for you," she grunted in rebuttal.

"What...?" Shepard began, her mind turning. Instantly a sneer directed toward the turian crossed her face and she shook her head a little. Then she seemed to board another train, this one of mere confusion as she looked back. "How does that make it your business?"

"He came to me after you gave him this 'assignment.' I looked into it...and that makes it my business." She raised her brow a fraction.

Before the commander could answer, a thump from her cabin alerted the two women to the obvious indication of something amiss. The commander's eyes darted back to Miranda, who she found already glaring.

"What is that?" she prompted, earning only silence. She nearly looked about to break through the entrance.

"It's the...air ducts. They've been playing up lately," Shepard answered, her straight face implying her untruthfulness.

The Cerberus operative wore an expression riddled with scepticism as she crossed her arms. "Why haven't you reported anything?"

"I can take care of it."

"Mess Sergeant Gardener is in charge of non-critical maintenance operations."

"I said it's fine," Shepard shot back. Miranda's eyes narrowed.

"Why are you trying to hide it?"

"None of your concern."

"Shepard—"

"Why are you still here?" Shepard responded, her voice low.

Miranda only tilted her head back a little, as if she was looking down upon her commander. The two stared each other down until there was another thump, at which point Miranda's face softened to one less formal. "I don't know what you're hiding, Commander, but whatever it is...just take care of it. Or I will. I didn't dedicate two years of trial-and-error to someone who couldn't handle their own problems." She cast another glance past Shepard, who took a step in her way to block her view. This seemed to finally reroute Miranda's intentions. "Just don't screw up."

"Nice to see you have faith in me," the commander answered, a tinge of playfulness to her words. Miranda did not show signs of a response as she approached the elevator and turned to face her one last time when she pressed a few buttons on the holographic terminal in the centre. Shepard bobbed her head on an angle, one of her eyebrows lifting as a shadow of a smirk occupied her lips.

When the doors closed, Miranda was left to ponder. For now, she would leave the situation alone. For all she knew, Shepard could have salvaged a drone and was trying her hand at AI hacking again. Perhaps Tali was even tutoring her. Whatever it was, Miranda only hoped that it was nothing she had to worry about much longer.

**ooo**

She was always hesitant to leave her alone. Although she knew that there was no way for her to escape, it was still concerning when she had to leave her room. At least every bathroom break was nothing to worry about—having an ensuite really paid off for such things. No matter how many times she had subtly requested for Mess Sergeant Gardener to install a bar fridge in her room, he either seemed to forget, or happened to be too busy at the time to agree. It bothered her that nobody else could see the importance of having one, and questioned why she could not just make her way to the fridge in the mess. She would sigh every time and claim it was convenience.

She waited impatiently for the elevator to bring her to the top floor, where only her cabin was. Even as the commanding officer, she often wondered why her suite was so lavished when most of her crew had minimal luxury in comparison. She was mostly unsure if Mordin even slept, and rarely saw Garrus outside the main battery room. She was sure that she would get complaints if her crew was not happy, however, which was enough to satiate her curiosity.

Finally arriving, Shepard punched a few letters into the holographic lock and watched the door separate, quickly racing in. She expected to find her new friend resting at the foot of the bed or perhaps scrounging around in her armour locker again. It was possible that she might find her under the bed as well, and, seeing that she was nowhere to be seen, the commander hoped that the space beneath the mattress was where she had hidden herself. She clenched her jaw and edged forward, hesitant to look in case her theory was proven wrong. There were no noises from any points of the room that she could deem unusual, as the swelling melody from her music player on the little bedside table was nothing she didn't normally hear, and suddenly felt a seed of worry burrow its way into her stomach.

As she crouched down and directed her glance into the space, her hope that she would find what she sought under her bed was crushed as she discovered that the floor was a covered by a small glass hatch. It was very minimally ajar, indicating that the lock was not in effect. She felt the seed expand the reaches of its roots and take hold as she brought a palm to her forehead and held it, trying to remain calm. Slowly she crawled forward against the floor, repeating on agitated curse after another. The creature had indeed nudged the panel open, which covered the piping below – travelling to _who knows what _parts of the ship – and, she realised, it had partially been her fault. A few days ago she had been inspecting the hatch, as she had not previously noticed that it was there, when she was distracted partway through and forgot to close it. Slowly she slumped against the floor, murmuring into her arm.

This was going to be a goose chase.

**ooo**

Clenching her teeth, Commander Shepard stepped out of the elevator. Before her were two paths, each rounding the elevator behind her and expanding into the mess hall among other middle and frontmost parts of the ship. Separate from the two paths and a few steps ahead lay a hallway that stretched to the left and right, but her destination was neither way down that hall.

As she stepped out, a crew member whose name she believed was Thomas nodded to her and took her place in the elevator. She gave him a nod as he addressed her and turned away, approaching the hallway and glancing briefly down to the left. Quickly she withdrew and composed herself as another crew member wandered by and slipped into the crew quarters. She turned around headed the opposite way past the elevator and toward the mess hall. She walked by the first table to her right, spotting the few crew members chatting at their seats. She paid them no heed, however, and instead focused on the room ahead, beside the kitchen area. She took a breath and glanced about, pretending she was entirely casual. She entered Miranda's office without suspicion every other time, but the fact that she was doing so while knowing that she did not have permission somehow made her feel as if a giant label had been slapped over her head, and an arrow shone down to point her out to her crew.

Once she slipped inside Miranda's office, she glanced about to ensure that she was alone. When she deduced that she was, she ensured that the door sealed shut and threw her head to the small platform beside it, where a holographic image appeared. "EDI, is she still here?"

The globe's talking animation flashed back and forth as she answered, "The creature is below Miranda's floor atop the piping systems."

"Okay..." Shepard whispered to herself, turning away from the AI as the globe remained. "Now I just have to wait..."

"If I may, Commander," the AI said again, and the commander threw her a glare. "The XO is only taking a short break to relieve herself. I do not believe that she will take long to return, based on previous records of the time she took to complete the task, so it is likely that you do not have much time to wait."

Fixing her eyes on the floor near the bed, the commander muttered, "I can't force her out," referring to the creature she was pursuing.

"Perhaps a treat may help to draw her out."

"Maybe..." the commander considered, but did not much like the idea. It was impractical to use anything the crew could eat, and as well as that, it would appear unusual to bring loose food into Miranda's office. As well as that, if Miranda returned while the food had not yet been consumed, she would practically be forced to reveal her intentions.

She flushed the thought from her mind and decided to stick with her faith in her new "friend's" curiosity. If she had been curious enough to scrounge around for the glass trapdoor beneath her bed while she was not in the room, she was sure the creature would find her way around the ship without being revealed. It was inevitable that something bad was going to happen, but the commander had not expected her to enter Miranda's room of all the ones she could have chosen. It was possibly the worst choice given the fact that the XO was the strictest on code.

"Come here, varren, varren, varren..." she whispered, walking slowly across the room. She checked the glass panels near the chair situated to the left of the room and, seeing nothing, progressed past the convex window and came to a halt; Miranda's bed.

There were two panels to her left, where the couch lined the wall of the room, but none on the other side of the bed. Sighing, the commander approached the couch and checked both the panels, spotting nothing at first and taking a moment to decide what to do next. She figured that looking in from above was one thing, but properly checking by lifting the panels was much more efficient. She wanted to be thorough, even if she had limited time. If she failed to locate the varren and revealed herself to Miranda, however, the commander would be forced into a very awkward situation.

"Commander Shepard," began EDI after the commander had nearly forgotten about her, "Ms. Lawson has been sighted in the hall outside the women's restrooms. She is currently making her way back to her office."

"_What_?!" blurted the commander, her eyes wide as she shot up. "You're just telling me this _now_?"

"Ms. Lawson has instructed me before not to breach her privacy," the AI responded, forcing Shepard to hiss out an agitated sigh.

She promptly dropped back down to press the glass back into place and heard the lock click. As it did so, she caught sight of the varren about a metre below the glass. Shepard's eyes widened as she shoved her face to the floor and felt her nose curl into a snarl. Seeing that the varren was too far away to reach had the door been lifted, and knowing she was out of time, Shepard forced herself to leave the floor and scuttled back.

Glancing frantically around for a spot to hide, Shepard gritted her teeth and rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of her predicament. She was the saviour of the galaxy, a former Spectre and a well-renowned hero...and she was hiding from her XO _in _said XO's cabin, working hard to keep a varren of all creatures hidden. It was more than a little ridiculous; it was nearly degrading. However, despite the fact that she did not quite know why she was going to such lengths to keep the pet under her ownership, she raced through the office before diving beneath the desk, figuring it to be the most appropriate of places to conceal herself.

Shortly after the door's soft whoosh sounded, the commander took a breath and swallowed, trying to flatten herself against the wall of the desk. She heard nothing but the clop of Miranda's boots as something that should not have escaped her came to mind: she was _under Miranda's desk_, the only spot she ever seemed to be. Bringing a palm to her face, the commander thought hard until an instant solution popped into her head: her tactical cloak.

Quickly pressing a few buttons on her omni-tool, she suddenly felt a small tingle dance along the hairs on her skin before she disappeared, raising her hand in front of her face and seeing nothing but the chair behind it.

It was then that two dark legs came into view. The commander froze, fitting herself in the corner of the desk. The other woman approached her chair from the other side, which Shepard was thankful for, and pulled the seat out a fraction before sitting on it. The squeak of the vinyl-like material caused Shepard to swallow as she reminded herself how easily she could be discovered. Additionally, Miranda's legs were not half a metre away; if she stretched them, they would hit the commander before the desk. She had no idea how Miranda would react if she caught her; she could only imagine that her thoughts would be directed somewhere toward Shepard being a pervert, which she probably would not have expected, but may not have dismissed.

Shepard rolled her eyes as she considered how self-centred the woman could be, and how "factually" perfect she was. Shepard understood that her father made her to his specifications, and that she was raised to be some sort of project pushing the limits of excellence, but sometimes the way she talked about herself was a little obnoxious. It didn't help that she did not seem to like Shepard on a personal level much; it was professional or non-existent, and although the commander was somewhat keen on developing a legitimate friendship with her, she did not get the feeling that she would get much of a chance. Since rescuing her sister and arguing with Jack, Miranda had been colder toward the commander, given that she had supported Jack's side of the argument.

Shepard's thoughts halted mid-consideration as scratching sounded from the end of the office. Immediately Miranda flung her hardened gaze over her shoulder, her dark hair following with a bounce. The commander could clearly see the concern and bemusement etched into her face as she continued to stare; knowing Miranda, she would not let this go.

As it sounded again, the chair departed from the desk and the woman came to a stand. Shepard clenched her teeth and watched as the woman dressed in a tight black outfit crept closer to her bed and searched warily but briefly about with her eyes. At first she glanced to the ceiling, but quickly moved to the right of her bed, between the mattress and the clothes locker, to check underneath it.

Shepard watched with growing apprehension as she realised that the Cerberus operative could move closer to the glass panels at any moment if she passed around to the other side of her bed; if she didn't act soon, Miranda was going to find the varren. There was no way she would let this escape her either, so distracting her by pretending to enter at that moment was going to be no sort of solution. Gritting her teeth, the commander knew there was only one thing she could do.

She crept across the floor silently, thankful that she did not keep her armour on, until she reached the left side of the bed, next to the glass panels. As the other began to inspect the floor, the commander deactivated her tactical cloak and revealed herself by standing. Miranda did not look up until the commander cleared her throat, knowing in that instant that she was about to instigate the most awkward situation she would possibly have ever found herself in.

When the Cerberus operative laid eyes on her, her brows came together faster than the commander could feign an innocent smile. There was silence between them before Miranda's mouth opened but remained ajar. She shook her head while her eyes narrowed, as if trying to figure out what had happened and why she was staring at a guest who was not invited.

"Commander..." She blinked a few times, as if trying to assess the scenario in her mind. Nothing was revealing itself to her, however, and she could only gape. "What—"

"Miranda, before you say anything, I think you should know something," Shepard began, her voice low and steady. She worked quickly to devise a story that would be believable enough to slash any trace of suspicion, or at least block any need to investigate its credibility. She cleared her throat. "EDI told me that your air ducts were a little blocked...with space dust."

Miranda's face did not change save for the extra dose of scepticism that soaked into her expression. "Space...dust?" She took a quick breath. "I am surprised you would come here to examine it yourself, Commander."

The suspicion in her tone made Shepard clear her throat. "Sometimes I like to assess problems myself."

Miranda was clearly not buying it. "I find it a little peculiar that you would come here on your own..." Still clearly driven by a sense of confusion, she added, "Shepard, these are my private quarters." The manner in which she said it implied all that she wanted to convey: it was private, and Shepard had breached that privacy.

"It's not like I was spying on you; I came in here to assess the problem while you were on a bathroom break so I wouldn't disturb you." She tried to attain her dignity, two arms calmly tucked behind her back.

"Why didn't I see you before? You're in plain view."

"I...had my cloak activated," the commander responded, clearing her throat while understanding that she was completely devoid of authenticity. Miranda's frown confirmed it.

"And how did you know I was out of my office?" she questioned rather suspiciously, her tone steady.

The commander shifted her jaw until EDI responded, "I kept her aware of your location, Ms. Lawson, upon her request."

The XO's face returned to something solid and usual, which Shepard wasn't sure was a good thing or a bad thing. "I find it a little peculiar that you would use EDI like that... EDI, why is it that you didn't tell me about the..._clogged pipes_?"

"I instructed her not to," Shepard piped in, but was overridden by the AI's voice.

"There was nothing to report."

A frown containing some traces of expectancy skimmed the darker-haired woman's face. It was then that the commander knew that she had to come up with something more credible. "Commander..." She crossed her arms, curious about the truth and clearly angered by the lies. "I believe you owe me an explanation. A _truthful_ one."

Shepard bit her lip. She scanned several options in her head, but the clogged piping was the only thing she could come up with. To claim that there was another problem with her cabin was going to need more evidence than what she could give, and EDI would likely spill the truth again. Clenching her teeth, she encountered the one thing which accounted for her odd behaviour, and which EDI was not qualified to clarify or deny.

Drawing a breath, she tried to compose herself as best she could and stepped to her right, coming to the foot of the bed and edging slowly around it. Miranda only seemed confused by her movement but remained still, a frown testing her face time and again. When the commander was a metre away, she formatted her face to resemble calmness and some extent of courage. It looked only to unsettle the other.

"Okay, you're right. I didn't come in here to clean some pipes..." She took another step closer, holding the XO's eyes with steady ones of her own. In her mind, she shouted warnings to herself; she seemed embarrassed by her own actions, but what was worse was knowing that she had no alternative.

"Then...would you tell me why you intruded?" Miranda questioned despite having an inkling, any nervousness she felt smothered by an attempt to remain professional.

"I think you know," the commander answered, her voice lowering. She nearly felt like slapping herself; this was all too weird. "I think you've felt that..._chemistry_...between us. It's been there since day one." Her steady gaze almost caressed the one standing before her, placing her in some sort of immobile state.

"C...Commander," Miranda began, still retaining some calmness indicating her self-preservation. She swallowed. "Commander, this is highly inappropriate—"

"I don't run by what's appropriate and what isn't." She took another step forward and a smirk touched her lips. "You know that."

"Shepard, please."

As the commander took yet another step and contemplated a reply, the automated voice of EDI patched in. "Commander, the location of the—"

"THAT'LL...be all, EDI," she interjected, then further instructed the AI not to contact her until after she had left Miranda's office. She could not have the AI interrupting with news on the varren's whereabouts. "We need some...privacy."

"Understood, Commander. Logging you out."

At this point, Miranda's expression had grown, dare the commander think, a little _afraid_. Or maybe "horrified" fit the profile better; whatever it was, Shepard thought it looked akin to a face she would pull if someone were to steal her favourite childhood doll, disembowel it and send it piece by piece through the airlock for it to float by her office.

"Commander, I...I think you need to leave," she proposed, beginning to lose her composure. Shepard gave a flicker of a smile. It was working.

"I might have to leave...but this thing we have between us, Miranda...it won't leave." She spoke softly and brought a hand up to the other woman's face, gently brushing the back of her fingers along her cheek. She traced her index finger around her jaw until Miranda pulled away, red beginning to colour her face.

"Commander, stop that." Her voice was weakening. She furrowed her brow and gave her head a brief shake, pulling away a little. "I really don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"Don't you?" Shepard pressed. She was slipping. At this rate, any distraction from the varren would be enough to draw her attention away.

It was then that scrabbling and scuffing alerted them both to where Shepard had been standing previously, on the other side of the bed. She flicked her head, spotting instantly the tip of the creature's snout through one of the glass panels. Although Miranda seemed not to notice, she certainly showed interest in investigating. Her face betrayed more suspicion than before, her brows knotting together in clear curiosity.

The commander felt a jolt of alarm zip through her; if Miranda saw so much as a scale on that varren's body, she would switch to her lecture mode and forbid the varren personally. She may have even gone so far as to alert the Illusive Man—someone whose authority Shepard was _supposed _to unwaveringly follow. Supposed to.

Just as the woman, seeming to ignore her commander, began to pass over to the glass panel, Shepard reached out and clutched her wrist. She was stopped in her tracks and cast her alerted expression to her captor. It was almost as if she could not properly comprehend the situation at hand.

"You're not listening..."

Miranda frowned, trying to escape. "Commander, didn't you hear that—"

Again the scuffling sounded, but the instant it began, Shepard was unconsciously making a move as swift as her reflexes would allow, and in a blur of black vinyl, Miranda lay face-up on her bed with Shepard hovering over her. Her shock went uninterrupted as Shepard's face portrayed the same reaction, as if she could hardly believe what she had just done.

The two lay for but a moment before Shepard, not wanting to allow Miranda the time to move, breathed, "I want you." Her words brushed the woman's face as her eyes narrowed with desire. A heated moment passed before a devilish smile curled onto the commander's face. "Don't you feel that..._tension_?"

Miranda's eyes were wide as she blushed furiously, as if trying to battle with herself over what kind of response to employ. A similar feeling suddenly overcame the commander, and she was instantaneously unsure how to proceed with the ordeal further.

"Shepard," EDI interrupted at once, startling both women and pulling them from their intense glares. "You are wanted elsewhere," was all she said before she vanished.

Shepard took a moment to contemplate this. _'Wait a second...' _She flicked her head to the glass panel to her left, unable to see anything beneath them. She glanced back to Miranda, who was still frozen with surprise. The fact that the woman had not already thrown her off with biotics was a little surprising, considering Miranda did not seem to be one to tolerate unwelcome advances. Shepard gave a sly grin as she considered the fact that her charm had actually worked, even if it was simply shock that was still holding down her target.

Suddenly Miranda seemed to remember her demeanour and traces of authority returned. A frown hardened her face and she moved to push herself free. "This is—"

Instantly the commander climbed off her XO and stood attentively, brushing her clothes flat. Following her action, Miranda sat up, still bemused. "Well, nice chattin' with ya, Miranda," Shepard responded as if they had discussed the day's events over coffee, and gave a slow diagonal nod. She whirled around and hurried out of the room, and Miranda could only frown in extreme confusion.

What had just happened?

**ooo**

The sub-deck below the engine room was often quiet and released no more than a constant but humble drone. The red glow illuminating the piping along the walls and hard floor from the central components was almost soothing, like a constant heater that gave some form of company—the only company that Jack could stand to consistently be around. It was quiet and conservative, never bothering her about her past or questioning her opinion on the current mission.

Although she often found herself rather bored with the minimal activities on the sub-deck, she frequently had the chance to vent her boredom when she was ordered to accompany the commander with whatever missions she happened to get herself caught up in. More often than not, the leave was worth it, and even when they simply visited a store on one of the planets they happened to be passing, at least it meant a change of scenery. A chance to kill was even better.

Although she understood that company could contribute to her entertainment, she loathed visitors and made an effort to repel them at every turn. Jack did not mind Shepard so much, but only if there was something important at hand. She hardly cared to speak with the other crew members on the vessel, especially those interested in helping her. Every time Shepard's annoying yeoman slipped below deck to try to schedule a therapy appointment, Jack would purposely throw as many insults her way as possible, giving her little to go off for her "evaluations." The biotic did not once provide the shrink with details on her personal life, and therefore she was always forced to retreat with little more than a sigh.

Rolling her eyes, she lay down on her bed, folding her arms behind her head. She stared at the ceiling for the umpteenth time. Thoughts about previous missions, namely returning to Pragia, flowed through her mind, causing her to clutch her head with impatience. Sometimes she wished she could simply stop her thought process and see only blackness. Dealing with the past was never something she had been adept at. It haunted even her dreams, although she strongly opposed to idea that she was not strong enough to deal with it on her own. It seemed more like a plague in her mind than anything else. She was who she was and had no desire to change that.

A scrabbling sound made her eyes snap open. After a few seconds, she deduced that it had been a simple sound emanating from the mass effect core located above. Sometimes the thick pipes around her bedding area groaned and churned, making their presence known, so she assumed it was just that again. Without a second thought, she closed her eyes once more and stared at the back of her eyelids, watching as images began to form.

The scrabbling sounded again, only this time, it was seemingly closer. And this time, it continued. Her frown twisted with alarm and she shot up, leaping from her bed and flicking both hands to summon surges of biotic energy. Instantly she surveyed the area, ready to express her anger at the intrusion of someone who was less than welcome. However, as she threw her gaze left and right, checking spaces between the machinery around her, she could see nobody there.

"Get the hell outta here," she grunted with power behind her command. She drew her elbows in beside her body, wrists curled with the implication that she was ready to deal some damage. Her sneer would have been enough to tell anybody that, but even after her threats, the noise continued. She craned her neck and trailed her eyes down the thick piping surrounding her, turning around as she did so. "Quit pissing around and show yourself," she instructed, her voice interlaced with anger and impatience. The fiery aura crackling around her hands illuminated the area with a unique sapphire sheen, reflecting off the metallic surfaces.

Suddenly a flicker of movement caught her notice from down below. She hardly had time to register what it was before she released a shout and drove one of her hands through the glass protecting the pipes that lay below, a shattering explosion of biotic energy clearing an imperfect hole in the floor. She grunted as shards of glass leapt toward her face, her eyes binding shut before the few pieces that hit her made their mark, her right hand erupting with stings.

She staggered back, blinking her eyes open in time to see another flash from below. This time, after quickly detecting that, whatever it was, it was channelling through a gap beneath the floor, she tried to focus her energy on attacking a little more indirectly. She was quick to release a pulse of biotic energy once more, this time designed to ripple through the floor. However, her aim was misguided and the shockwave instead tore up more of the glass like it was a simple layer of cardboard, scattering a spray of glass fragments. She hissed at the fact that she had missed, but simultaneously knew that she must have eradicated whatever pest was roaming about.

After a quick assessment of the space beneath the floor, she gave a smirk. Although there were no traces of blood (save for flecks of her own), she _had _to have gotten whatever it was. There was no chance it could have escaped.

Satisfied, the biotic gave a grunt of triumph before bobbing back to the bed to one side of her arrangement, listening to her boots crunch stray glass. Once upon the bed, she gave a sigh and laid back down.

It was then that she heard more scrabbling.

Shooting back up to her feet, Jack surveyed the room with a deep glower etched into her features, the deadly radars that were her eyes scouring the floor for any further sign of whatever it had been that instigated her assault. To her shock, the white colouring once again showed itself, although this time it became clear that it was not the creature's only colour.

Sitting beneath the staircase to the left, Jack saw the small form of a somewhat intrigued creature sitting on its haunches. Large paws clawed with four charcoal talons revealed themselves, large blue eyes looking curiously her way.

She furrowed her brow as she edged closer, careful not to step off what remained of her glass floor. "You son of a—"

"What in the name of—" Tali stopped halfway down the right stairwell, her form freezing as she took in all that was laid out before her. Immediately Jack was distracted, and the creature promptly escaped.

She scoffed, annoyed that the animal had fled. "What the fuck do you want?"

The quarian was clearly disturbed and shocked at what lay before her, and her silence only agitated Jack. "Did...did you do this?"

"Mind your own damn business," the ex-convict grunted, attempting to wave off the intruder with a simple gesture. She only gritted her teeth when the two engineers, the names of whom she had never bothered to learn, appeared on the left set of steps. Their mouths were ajar and their eyes wide, a sight that Jack was sick of seeing.

"Woah," the woman blurted, fixing her eyes on the scene.

"What the bloody hell..." the other began.

"Jack," Tali began, concern in her voice. It only made her shoot a scowl in the quarian's direction, a little disappointed that she was unable to see the look of sheer shock on her masked face.

"_Yeah, _it was me," she growled, rolling her eyes. "Now everyone gawk and gasp, and then get the hell outta here."

"Commander Shepard's not gonna be happy..." the man uttered, clear interest in his voice.

"No kidding," the woman confirmed before she and her colleague made a silent decision between themselves and vanished up the steps before verbal abuse was assigned their way. When Tali remained behind, Jack shrugged at her.

"The fuck do you want?"

The quarian only watched her before she shook her head and released a sigh of disbelief. Once she had vanished up the steps, Jack gave one last brief glance to the left, where the creature had been sitting. When she could not see whatever had been there before, she gave up and returned to her bed with little more than her usual frown.

**ooo**

"She _what_?" the commander questioned, shock and confusion in her tone as she gripped the railing bordering the flooring in the main battery. The cardinal glow of the battery's core seemed to set a somewhat nerve-wracking mood as it soaked her skin. Her jaws closed in on her bottom lip.

"Would you like me to repeat the information, Commander?" came the synthetic voice of EDI from the small terminal behind her.

"No, I heard you the first time..." Shepard sighed, shaking her head in near-disbelief.

"Understood, Commander."

"Damn it...I knew something like this would happen," she grunted, extending her arms to distance herself from the bar but keeping her hands gripped. Her face was parallel with the floor as she released a prolonged groan.

The sound of someone clearing his throat reminded her that she was not the only person in the room. "So...do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"No," Shepard sighed, pulling herself up right again and quickly composing herself. She struggled to meet his eyes as the magnitude of shame and embarrassment at the situation soaked her mind. "No, Garrus, there's nothing to tell."

Her blatant lie was not going to escape his notice. One of his eyebrow plates lifted. "The AI tells you Jack's torn up the engineering sub-deck, and you try to tell me that there's nothing to share?" He was far from mocking, at least.

She released a sigh. "I'll handle it, okay?"

Garrus stared at her a second before shrugging, taking his chances and backing off. "Alright," he complied, turning to the terminal and inputting a few commands.

Releasing her tensed jaw, Shepard thanked him for understanding and mapped a course for the lower deck, where she would be sure to have a thorough conversation with Jack. However, as she moved into sight of the corridor leading to the room she currently stood in, she froze. Further ahead, where the kitchen area was, Miranda stood rather rigidly. She was thankfully not faced toward the commander while she exchanged, in what looked to be a rather impersonal fashion, information with the Mess Sergeant.

'_Oh, damn; she's hunting me down!' _Shepard retreated from the line of sight and sucked up against the wall not a metre from where she stood. She threw her rather agitated glare to her right, where the globe-like projection of EDI came into being. "EDI," she hissed, "did you tell Miranda about this?"

"I'm programmed to always keep the XO updated when important news arises," she replied.

"No...no, EDI, don't do that," she growled in a hushed volume, swiping a hand in a downward motion a few times. She then rolled her head a little around the corner to spot the white and black form of Miranda ascending the few steps before the walkway to the battery. Her eyes were on the data pad in her hand, thankfully, but when Shepard retreated, she knew that she was in for a lecture. "No..."

Frantically she searched the room for somewhere to hide. Garrus once again noticed her odd behaviour and frowned. "What are you—"

"Shh!" the commander hissed, hearing the clopping of her predator's shoes closing in. "You have to hide me. I'm not here."

Garrus glanced behind himself before stepping toward her, concern on his face as he chuckled, "Shepard, what—"

Shepard only released a small droning noise, biting her lip. "This might be a little awkward after I tried to seduce her."

Immediately Garrus was taken aback and frowned, staring at her with a look of utter shock on his face. "Seduce—?"

Before either of them could say any more, the unsettling pointed calmness that seemed to be always present in Miranda's tone entered the commander's ears, and she spun around as Garrus did, slamming her back against his. He jolted forward a moment before Miranda entered the room.

"Garrus, do you—" She paused when her eyes scanned his form, finding his position to be a little random. She did not question it, however, and instead simply asked, "Where is Commander Shepard?"

"Shepard?" Garrus began, feigning innocence. He gave a shrug and shifted his weight a little to lean further backwards, nearly throwing the commander off-balance. He pretended not to notice as he brought a hand to his mouth and cleared his throat in an overly casual fashion. "Nope. Haven't seen her since..." His words stopped flowing as he realised that he did not have something to finish it with. Understanding that his cover-up had been a failure, he continued, "...A while."

Miranda crossed her arms and leaned on one leg. The other was bent at her knee. "Commander," she began, the sound of silence following. Garrus raised a hand to his neck to scratch it, understanding by that point that the Cerberus operative was indeed aware of her target's presence. When Shepard only remained where she was, Miranda pinched out another sigh. With increased authority and a tinge of anger, she repeated, "_Commander._"

"Miranda," Shepard began, stepping out from behind Garrus with a look of fabricated professionalism. Garrus nearly toppled backwards at the loss of his support.

"Commander, you have some serious priorities to reconsider," Miranda hissed, her tone deep and disapproving.

Shepard only sighed and pushed past her. "And you need to lay off."

"I'm only interested in what's best for you and your crew," claimed the darker haired women, who proceeded to follow her commander.

"Don't forget Cerberus," Shepard mumbled somewhat grudgingly.

Miranda was quick to catch up with her. "Stop the secrecy and tell me what you brought onto the ship." When she got only the cold shoulder in response, she stopped in her tracks, expecting her superior to do the same. "Commander."

Annoyed, Shepard spun around. "What?"

"Is it a varren?"

Guilt coloured Shepard's face as she cast her glance away. When Miranda only continued to stare her down, she breathed a sigh and stepped closer, sternness tinting her face as her voice lowered. "I can take care of it."

"Animals larger than a space hamster are prohibited aboard the Normandy," Miranda pressed, the look of shock and disapproval on her face clearly depicting how seriously she took the situation. "I would have thought you knew that."

"I _said _I can take care of it," Shepard hissed, and Miranda only shook her head. "I brought it on board and I knew the consequences... Keep your freakin' thong on while I figure out what to do with it."

Miranda hardly seemed fazed by the undergarment implication and shook her head. Both stared the other down before she growled, "If this matter doesn't resolve itself, I'll have no choice but to report to the Illusive Man about this."

The commander rolled her eyes. "Like a good little lapdog." She shook her head and targeted the elevator.

Miranda clenched her jaw but otherwise showed no sign of an altered composure. "I report to him because he has _earned _my loyalty."

The commander uttered a bitter chuckle. "Oh yeah,_ that's_ right. You can be loyal to a racist bastard whose syndicate has a history of performing outrageous experiments on helpless victims to further their goals at whatever the cost, but you can't be loyal to your commander because you had a little _spit _with Jack and you can't _bear _that I sided with her?" She shook her head and blinked in disbelief, hardly able to understand the logic. "Grow up."

Miranda sighed, shaking her head as the commander disappeared around the corner and into the elevator.

**ooo**

"Why can't you just _give it to me_?"

"_Because_ when people bring food out of the mess, the plates have a habit of mysteriously disappearing and they _don't _buy themselves replacements."

Jack gave a snarl, her hands drilling into the counter. The mess sergeant only glared back at her, holding the plate out of reach above the stove. Within a few seconds, the biotic's hand was alit with crackling sapphire energy, sparks leaping about as if engaging in a rigid tango. She vaulted over the counter and leaned in close, driving him back against the inbuilt counters and appliances. Her hand was at his throat.

"Give me the _damn _food or that plate won't be the only thing that needs replacing."

Mess Sergeant Gardener stiffened, but despite the serious threat, he did not give in. "You eat up _here_."

"Jack, Mess Sergeant," Garrus interrupted, standing between the counter and the preparation bench. They each turned to him, the cook looking considerably unnerved. "Might be a good idea to save your argument for a time when the entire crew isn'twaiting for their meal." When the response was a heavier scowl from Jack and a steady frown from the mess sergeant, Garrus added, "Reasonable suggestion, if you ask me."

With a grunt, Jack tore from the cook and stormed past Garrus, eying him angrily. "Fuck this! I don't want your gravy-drowned shit anyway." Still bubbling with deadly biotic energy, she flounced toward the elevator, muttering a few curses.

The Mess Sergant's face crinkled with distaste. "Roast beef is a delicacy aboard a ship like this!"

Noting with annoyance that she needed to relieve herself, Jack pulled away from the elevator and toward the women's restrooms, which she entered at a hurried, determined pace. When the door to the room separated in fragments, her eyes fell upon something and she paused. She watched with confusion as the commander, bent down, inspected a toilet. She seemed to be completely preoccupied with this until Jack's intrusive, blunt tone drilled through whatever sort of bizarre barrier Shepard had erected around her.

"The hell're you doing?"

When Shepard turned, the look of guilt and surprise on her face made Jack raise an eyebrow. As impatient as she was with the commander, she wanted to know what happened. The crouching woman came to a stand. "Uhh...this...probably looks weird," she began, and Jack only gave her a look that told her that her terminology was off its mark. "I'm looking for something."

"...In a toilet."

"Yes...I dropped something...it's complicated..." she began, pulling away from the toilet. She avoided eye contact before she pushed lightly past her and disappeared down the hall.

As Shepard hurried away, she felt shivers down her spine. That had been too close. Jack's unexpected visit had thrown her off her game, but she reasoned with herself, noting that the varren could not have been in that room after all. Knowing that she needed to find a private space where she would be able to talk to EDI without anybody else hearing, the commander quickly slipped into the men's toilets, finding with a pleasant surprise that there was nobody inside.

"Where _is it_, EDI?"

"I believe she has caught scent of the food that Mess Sergeant Gardener has been preparing."

Shepard's face flushed. "She's...she's in the mess?"

"Beneath it, travelling atop the piping."

"Damn!" she cursed, growing a heavy scowl. She gritted her teeth and considered what that would mean; everybody who was eating in the mess – which was most of her crew – would see this creature now, and her secret would be exposed. She could only hope in vain that Miranda was not there. Then maybe she could convince the rest of the crew not to speak of what they saw. If Miranda found out that the creature was loose, she would have it found and relocated immediately. For a moment Shepard wondered why this varren meant so much to her, but now was not the time to dwell.

As much as she wanted to swear everyone to secrecy against the Ice Queen, she knew it was unethical, and would not be fair on the crew. Admitting this to herself, she growled and forced her hand into the glass before her, a small section of the mirror shattering while other parts grew hairline cracks.

She turned to the sight of a random male crew member standing in the doorway. The commander paused where she stood, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the man before her. She nearly shook her head at the fact that she had been caught again. The man swallowed, but showed no signs of fear despite the oddness of the situation.

"It's not what it—"

"No," he began, raising his hands, "I get it." He strolled in, as if everything was perfectly normal, targeting a urinal near her. "I really hated that mirror too."

Shepard did not wait longer to remove herself from the bathroom, hurrying down the hallway. From behind, she heard a curious voice. "Shepard."

She turned around, instantly recognising the voice. "Kasumi," she blurted in some sort of primal greeting.

"I see you've been..." She glanced to the men's bathrooms, and although most of her face was obscured by the hood covering it, the commander could clearly tell that she was frowning in confusion. "...Keeping up with crew affairs."

The insinuation in her voice made Shepard frown and shake her head wildly. "No, no," she began, her voice a chuckling mess of failed attempts to convince her crewmate otherwise, "that's _not_—"

"Any of _my_ business," she stated, her words tinged with amusement, moving silently around her and into the crew deck. Shepard only sighed once she was gone and brought a palm to her head.

"_Think_," she told herself forcefully, trying to devise a solution in her mind. "You're Commander Shepard...you must have some idea for what to do."

As her mind turned with options, something suddenly popped into her head. She remembered one time when Mess Sergeant Gardener accidentally set something on fire while he was cooking, and the smoke instantly triggered smoke alarms. The whole crew deck was an uproar before EDI had cast a strong voice throughout the floor that there had been no fire at all. Maybe, in a similar situation...

Shepard gave a smirk. She knew what she had to do.


	2. Part Two

**Misconduct**

**Part Two**

"FIRE! RUN! There's a fire in the Main Battery!" yelped the commander as she raced through the mess. Countless crew members – some of them her squad members as well – kept their eyes fixed on her as she continued to shout the same warning over and over before they finally began to get up, scream, and disperse.

"What about Garrus?" shouted Kasumi, catching the commander's attention.

It was then that she realised he had not been in the mess. "He's...in the med bay!"

"I knew he would eventually screw something up!" someone claimed in a panic, to which the commander stopped to frown at.

"Me too; that chest armour comes out _way _too far to avoid knocking over canisters of flammable chemicals!" another screeched. Shepard was unsure how to respond to that.

Soon enough, the mess hall was in chaos. Some ran straight for the crew quarters while others piled into the elevator, pushing, shouting, whimpering... Shepard nearly felt bad for them. Nearly.

She hid a smile of satisfaction as all but those who served on her squad fled, whom she then dismissed, as a "fire team" was "going to assemble" to "handle the situation." Most of them found it a peculiar notion, but again, did not question the odd orders and returned to their cabins.

"Phew..." the commander sighed once the deck was clear. She could not believe that had worked. She had expected it to clear a few away before somebody found out that she was lying; least of all did she expect _everyone _to clear out. She gave a shrug, figuring that it she must have been_ pretty_ convincing. "Now..." She focused back on task, understanding that she had little time before fragments of the crew would likely return for a situation update. "Where are you...?"

Firstly she hurried to the food preparation section, where the sink, bin and oven were of no use to her. She spun around and scanned the room. There were no spots like in Miranda's room where the floor had glass panels and visible piping underneath; however, as she laid eyes on the small yellow cargo pods across from the kitchen and beside the small row of steps, she gave a small inquisitive frown. She followed her curiosity and crept toward it, suddenly noticing a flicker of movement beneath the steps. Her eyes widened as she stared, blinking a few time as if to be sure. She rushed to the side, in line with the yellow pods, and lay herself down on the floor to see through to under the stairs. She heard a small growl.

"Come on, get over here..._now_."

The varren turned to her words and cocked her head before slowly creeping toward her. Shepard, a little surprised that her varren had listened, flashed a few smiles before she took a hesitant breath and reached out under the railing, still unable to reach her as she lay on her belly. The varren gave her a face of innocence and she scowled, narrowing her eyes and poking out her bottom jaw in a pout.

"Come on, girl...don't make this difficult."

"Don't make _what _difficult?" spiked a voice, and the commander felt shock rush through her. As she turned to view who she expected to see beside the kitchen, she brought her head up far too fast and knocked it into the bar above once on her knees.

"Aahhoww..." she droned, resting a hand on the corner of her head. She manoeuvred herself out from under the bar and pushed herself up, still holding her head. Miranda stood, a hand on her hip, glaring from beside the bin.

"_Lose something, _Commander?" she questioned, and Shepard clenched her teeth, completely understanding that she had been caught red-handed. When Shepard didn't reply – just sighed and swayed her arm as she turned to the stairs again – Miranda began to approach. "It shocks me that you would be so careless. I thought you knew the rules of the ship."

Shepard again sighed, watching as the varren, still seated, continued to hold her expression of innocence through the gaps in the steps. "Come here, girl..." she whispered, lowering into a crouch.

Miranda's arms had interlaced as she stood in line with the steps, her eyes switching between the varren and the commander. "...When?"

"Yeah!" came a solid voice from behind, earning frowns from both women. "That's the thing I saw!"

The two laid eyes on Jack, who swaggered through the room with determination etched between her features. She lifted her hand, which crackled with biotic energy, before a similar blue glow emanated from behind the stairs. The commander cried out in objection as the varren was taken out from the side of the steps and between the two yellow cargo pods, and in surprise, Jack released her hold. The varren, who had been rather leisurely floating, dropped to the floor and gave a small whimper.

"_Don't _attack," Shepard warned, her tone deep and serious.

"Hold onto your panties, Shepard," Jack responded. "I wasn't going to."

"A varren?" Tali's voice echoed, drawing Shepard's attention. She realised that the quarian must have arrived with Jack.

"_That's_ why you destroyed the engine room?" Kasumi piped in from behind them.

Suddenly a series of clicks sounded: the loading sound of a shotgun. Shepard tossed a hard glare to the massive krogan who appeared to the left of the elevator, pointing his weapon at the beast on the floor. With wide eyes, Shepard leapt to her side, wrapping the creature in her arms. "_No_! Grunt, put that thing away!"

The krogan stared at her for a second before he lowered his weapon, confusion splashed across his face. "Why?"

"No-one is to hurt this varren. Understand?"

"What is the meaning of this, Shepard?" Tali questioned, her tone clearly curious.

Shepard heaved a sigh. "It's a varren..."

"Yes..." began Kasumi, "we can see that."

"Shepard, you need to tell me in detail how you retrieved that creature," Miranda demanded, causing the commander to roll her eyes. "It could be a serious hazard to the crew, and I'm assuming that's something you neglected to pay attention to." Before Shepard could shoot a defensive statement back, the XO continued, "Could you even establish here and now that nobody on board is allergic to that vermin?"

"They're not the most hygienic creatures," added Kasumi thoughtfully.

Put on the spot, the commander paused for a second. "No..."

"Tell me what happened, Shepard," Miranda hissed, taking another step toward her.

The look she received from her superior was scornful and accusing, but the commander relented and began, "Yesterday...when we had to retrieve the probe from Etamis."

She shook her head lightly but continuously. "How the hell did you smuggle it on?"

Shepard met her gaze. "Well..."

**ooo**

Ejecting a thermal clip and the single empty cartridge from her assault rifle, Commander Shepard hissed under her breath. She pressed her back against a low, uncomfortable wall of earth, its rocky warts jabbing into just the wrong spots between her plates of armour as she pulled a full clip from her belt and shoved it into the magazine well. She had to shift again before the sound of a vicious roar rippled to her ears.

Thumping grew louder and she swallowed, holding her rifle close before she sprung up and quickly aimed at a closing varren. The beast swayed away from the gun's line of fire and the bullets hammered the ground not ten centimetres from its mark, releasing small clouds of dust. She scowled as she pulled away from the rock and anticipated the varren rounding the boulder beside her cover, noting with alarm that a second of the slimy beasts was approaching from her right. In that split second, she knew she would have to make a choice; left or right. Without hesitation, she gunned down the one she had initially targeted, allowing the second a chance to strike.

She shouted as the beast tackled her to the ground, the loud slam of her helmet against the solid ground rattling her head. There was a brief struggle before the creature lashed toward the visor, but got no further as a translucent azure coating encased its body. Confusion ensued in both human and beast as the offender began to levitate, only then to be shot in the chest as a result of the Commander's sharp reflexes.

Quickly she scanned the area, spotting the tense form of a tattooed individual sheltered behind a boulder. A sneer knotted her face as she gripped her pistol with one hand. "You're lucky I saw that."

"Thanks, Jack," Shepard muttered.

"Just pay attention next time."

The commander turned back to her rifle, giving her head a light shake. "Guess I better."

More barks and snaps of a distasteful nature rippled toward Shepard and her party as varren emerged from nooks in the towering cliffs close to their position and down the nearby slant. The quadrupeds flashed their emotionless eyes as they loped, their minds quickly snapping to what could potentially be prey. Despite the fact that each member of her team held more than one weapon, the beasts continued to flock toward them. Personally Shepard did not understand their nature; she resolved to thinking that they were less intellectual than other predators and likely, given the desolation that seemingly enveloped the planet, targeted anything they could find in the hopes of a meal. She found it marginally pitiful that they would carelessly throw their lives away, but in thinking so, she reminded herself of the countless humans and aliens alike who hid behind Blue Suns armour and Eclipse banners under the name of mercenaries, sacrificing everything they could have become just to fall at the wrong end of a gun.

Snapping from her internal digression, the commander watched as more of the slimy beasts were either thrust back at the mercy of a mass effect field or targeted with incendiary ammo.

"Where the hell are they coming from?" growled Jack, squinting her eyes and frowning at the land up ahead. Just as she asked, another four varren powered over the rocky hill and sped their way. She blurted bouts of profanity before she aimed her pistol and fired, missing three shots and striking only once on one's shoulder, instantly crippling it. It toppled over at the same time as another two fell at the hands of a great krogan, whose disjointed battle cries hammered through the air as he fired a number of well-timed rounds. The fourth beast scaled the short rock wall Shepard was taking cover behind and headed straight for a figure concealed inside a purple suit.

Tali emitted a cry of shock as she tinkered with the final few pieces of a drone, and the rotund robot levitated for no longer than half a second before it began its assault on the incoming "fishdog." The distraction it provided granted Tali time to aim her shotgun and spray a collection of bullets through the beast's skull.

"Come here, you feral little bitch," Jack shouted as she switched her hand canon for her shotgun, approaching the varren she had crippled before extinguishing its life.

The commander breathed a sigh of relief; it was not often that she questioned her teammates and their ability to maintain control, but sometimes she could not help but question her chances of survival. She had been relying on them as she traced a signal displayed on a small computer inbuilt into her wrist armour which continuously bleeped, trying to detect the whereabouts of the probe that their mission was centred around. A far as she knew, the sonar detected that the probe she launched earlier was over the hill that the varren had been swarming from, so she judged their current position, where they had a great advantage over swarming enemies, to be the most appropriate place to station themselves until the threat abated. She did not have a reading of the varren population on this planet but assumed that, judging by the numbers they had already witnessed, there were at least two packs living nearby.

After another wave, the attacks subsided and there seemed to be no further threat. Shepard threw her hazel eyes over her three teammates, each situated in differing positions. "I think that's all of them."

Tali breathed a sigh of relief and emerged from her cover, Jack doing the same. Grunt's massive form was already out in the open, and he appeared to be tending to his gun for but a moment before he heaved a weighted sigh.

"I still don't get how this is important enough to delay the whole _mission_," hissed Jack, her buoyant but proud gait gaining the commander's attention for a moment.

"We need all the sources of platinum we can get," Tali informed.

"Tali's right," Shepard added. "I really want that sniper upgrade..."

Jack exhaled with obvious annoyance and the krogan stepped forward, smashing his fists together and experiencing the recoil with some degree of approval. "Stopping the Collectors might be important, but crushing varren bones gets me all rallied up."

"Target practice is quite useful," began the quarian from behind, "especially moving targets."

"You don't even shoot them," Jack accused, her expression one of demeaning confusion. Her voice was raised in a clear state of disapproval. "You just use your fancy drone things instead of getting your hands dirty."

Tali straightened up but avoided taking the bait. "When you're not busy_ missing_ with your pistol, you're throwing your enemies about with biotics," Tali reasoned, shrugging at the hypocrisy.

The bald woman's face darkened with a sneer, her upper lip twitching. "You wanna start something?" Following the warning, her hands became illuminated with a dangerous sapphire glow.

"_No_," the quarian began, her voice a little more stern. "I'm just stating the facts."

"Jack, Tali's a tech expert," the commander stepped in, clearly a little tired of the conflict that the ex-convict had a habit of initiating. "Her drones are a part of her, just as your biotics are a part of you."

"Whatever," she mumbled in response, taking a step back and raising a hand to signal her resignation from the argument.

"There must be more varren over the rise," Grunt predicted, evidently uninterested in verbal complications. He flashed a glance to Shepard, as if ensuring that he was permitted to investigate, before seeming to realise that clearance was redundant, and began to scale the moderately steep slant. Tali followed without attending to permission either, while Jack stayed put. Shepard shrugged and cleared the stout barrier of rock, which had previously shielded her, before ascending the slope.

Over the hill, the large form of a probe lodged firmly into the ground was uprooting surrounding earth, small clumps of grass – previously unseen on their visit to Etamis – and flecks of soil littering the surface. As the four neared the giant probe, Shepard could see that the device was clearly still working and had extracted the mineral deposit that EDI had detected from the border of the planet's atmosphere. The lettering that spelled "PLATINUM" on a screen that showed an accurate reading of the amount of platinum that it had collected was a burning red. She was led to believe they were normally black, which furrowed her brow.

Tali bent her knee and descended to a kneeling position. The eyes she kept hidden behind her tinted visor scanned the letters, a diagnosis forming in her head. "There's clearly been some sort of malfunction..."

"Could someone have tampered with it?" questioned the commander, but Tali shook her head.

"I think the probe was faulty before it was launched." She reached out and hesitantly stroked two fingers on the screen. "It isn't hot... It didn't overheat."

"Who cares why it's not working?" huffed Jack, rounding the probe in search of more varren with Grunt. When she was convinced that there were no more to be found, or at least none nearby, she sat herself atop the probe and hung her legs off the side, her pistol in her lap. There was still a considerable few metres between the bottom of her multi-buckled boots to the top of the commander's head. "Just get the platinum from it so we can go."

"It would be a good idea to first figure out why the probe was faulty," Tali specified, hardly paying her provocative teammate attention as she studied the screen for a moment longer. "There might be more with the same problem." She edged around it a little before encountering a sealed hatch, and needed no more than a few seconds to get it open. The interior of the probe was mostly filled with a large tank for the element extraction, and surrounding it were motherboards and countless wires. The quarian began poking around for answers.

The sound of a sigh seeped from the biotic's mouth again. She scratched her head and questioned, "Are we gonna sit here for hours waiting for _her_ to try figure out what's wrong with this thing?"

Agitation embodied Tali as she stood up, and although her expression was hidden, it was clear that she was growing more impatient. "I need to analyse it! It's the only way we can single out the problem and ensure the same thing isn't affecting other probes."

"Jack has a point," intervened Shepard, who had similar thoughts. Tali threw her head to her, and she guessed that the alien was glaring. "It would be easier to study on the Normandy. You have more resources and I'm sure you'd be more comfortable working there than _here_," she scoffed, waving a hand about in some sort of lazy effort to showcase her surroundings.

"I guess you're right," Tali responded, seeing reason. Shepard nodded.

"I want you to drive the shuttle closer to the probe so Grunt can lift it into the cargo hold," she explained, and to that, Jack gave a scoff of amusement. Both turned to her, her expression twisting with condescension.

"Is the shuttle even big enough to hold it? It's not some pissy little device; it's freaking massive."

Shepard thought about that for a moment before she gave a smirk. "Well, if it can't hold it, then the easily solution would be to have you levitate it with biotics." The humour did not convey how she imagined, and she cleared her throat afterwards, noting only the other woman's expression of minor disgust.

"Screw you, Shepard."

Shepard inhaled, keeping the breath in her throat before pressing her lips together and releasing the bottled air through her nose, averting her eyes. She never meant to insult her crew members out of pure amusement, but sometimes her mouth spoke before her brain considered the repercussions. "It was a joke..." she said in a whisper.

"Will do, commander," the quarian agreed, likely brightened by the exchange of conversation between the two other females.

"Jack? Would you mind accompanying Tali back to the shuttle?" Shepard asked, but the response was only a hardened look and a raised eyebrow. It was clear that she questioned the necessity. "There's the possibility of more varren, and if Tali's outnumbered on her way back, she might be too far away for any of us to hear." She kept her glare stern until the woman finally sighed and slid down the side of the probe, landing in a heap before straightening out and strolling leisurely after her teammate.

Shepard gave a sigh, rounding the probe to the opposite side to watch Tali and Jack disappear into the hazy distance. The probe on this side had delved further into the ground, and looked firmly lodged. "Great..." she muttered, shifting her gaze to Grunt, who stood nearby with two large hands on his shotgun. "Do you think you can lift this?"

The krogan's face became obscured with a frown. "Shepard, do you forget who I am? Descendant of Kredak, Shiagur and Veeoll. I _am_ krogan."

"Okay...stupid question," Shepard muttered, watching as the krogan took several steps forward and slammed his hands into the side of the probe. She could have sworn the metal dented a little as he worked his muscles and elevated it with relative effort but eventual success. Half of the probe's mass was lifted off the earthy ground, leaving the commander in relative awe but simultaneous expectancy. He dropped the load and it trembled though the earth. She gave a grin. "I only have the best on my team."

"Damn straight," he rumbled, a curl of a smile creaking across his lips.

"Commander?" a voice began, and she brought her left arm up, pressing the intercom button on her helmet immediately. "Find anything?"

"Joker, we've got the probe. Tali and Jack are bringing the shuttle over."

"Have you got a way to get it on board?" he questioned. "The thing's not exactly small."

She tossed a smirk Grunt's way. "Sure do."

"Alright, well I guess we'll just sit around till you come back," he concluded, severing their connection.

The commander lowered her arm and instructed the krogan to watch over the probe, remembering the possible danger of more varren nearby. A large wall of rock to her left obstructed any from approaching from that direction, but behind her, a field of boulders was spread out across crevices in the ground. To her right, the vegetation steadily increased, and more cliffs of rock rose above where varren would be likely to come from, making it easy to rule out having to search there.

"I'm just gonna take a look around," she informed her teammate, who nodded in the affirmative and held his shotgun steady.

The commander began to wander away, approaching the boulder-ridden field and noting that, in a few places, the earth had ditches that would have been appropriate cover for varren lying in wait, although she was unsure if stalking was in their nature, and as she approached one of the holes with caution, her assault rifle firmly wrapped in her fingers, she could see that at the other end of the ditch was a hold burrowing into the ground. She produced a soft frown, understanding that a fishdog could easily slip up from below the surface and attack her.

"...A tunnel?" she questioned, a little surprised by the habitat that these varren had adapted to. She was not overly knowledgeable of the creatures, but had never seen a pack of them living underground.

She was quick to dismiss the thought as a sudden noise entered her ears. Shivers raced down her spine as she adopted a sneer, a little annoyed that her body had chosen to react with some trace of fear, and pressed her rifle more forcefully into her shoulder plate. She wheeled about to identify what the sound was, but she was unable to see anything in the area, and wondered if what she had heard had been actually real. Another collection of seconds passed without another peep, and warily she relaxed a little, keeping a sharp eye out as she scanned the area once more.

She tensed once more as the noise reached her yet again, and this time she, although snapping to attention, made an effort to take note of the noise's nature. After a moment of analysis, she realised that it sounded suspiciously close to whimpering. She blinked a few times in confusion, her frown pressing against her brow, only to hear the sound again as she turned, her boots crunching on loose stones. She raised an eyebrow, considering a possibility that would not only have perplexed her, but put her dignity to some degree of shame; whimpering was not a noise a hostile varren would make.

The commander, realising that as she glanced back, Grunt was not within her view due to the descent in the land and the many boulders between them, took a focused, confident breath. She took her chances and began to scuttle across the dry, earthy surface, checking pothole after pothole to identify the location of her target. There was nothing in the first five that she checked, but upon approaching one further ahead, she at first caught sight of the spines standing erect along its upper back. Immediately she applied pressure to her gun's trigger, although it was not enough to fire the weapon, and narrowed her eyes. However, as the creature raised its head curiously, Shepard felt her finger slip off completely. She rejected any hostile approach as her eyes scanned over what was obviously a varren pup. "...Really," she grunted, and although her shoulders dropped, she felt them tense again once the varren made a sudden movement.

Her gun popped back to her face and she pointed it directly at the creature before her, feeling rather silly once it whimpered in turn and seemed to shield its face with its clawed paws. Shepard gave somewhat of a guilty sigh and compressed her jaws.

'_You can do it...you can brave a __**baby **__varren,' _she teased, noting how ridiculous her precautionary behaviour was considering the situation. _'It certainly explains the whimpering.' _She cleared her voice, lowering her gun once establishing that that pup was alone. The creature only retreated into itself against what looked to be a boulder obscuring the path into the tunnel, releasing a soft whining noise that the human found herself taking pity in the beast for. "...Go on. Get outta here," she instructed, waving her gun in the direction of the other side of the boulder field...if it had one. The varren only cowered further, and for the first time, Shepard noticed a slash in its skin along its foreleg. With a frown, she realised that the creature was likely incapable of quick movement.

A hideous screech made her flick her head upward, catching sight of an oversized flying creature with leathery wings and a curved beak. Its four eyes were beady and precise, likely marking its prey for when she cleared the area and it could sweep down and collect it. A second set of wings beating the air caught her attention, drawing her eyes to yet another, larger creature of the same species. She swallowed; those things must have been more than twice the size of Grunt.

Sighing, the commander saw only one solution in light of her mercy. She raised the rifle once more. "I guess I should put you out of your misery before those..._things _get you." Her finger moved to the trigger.

"Rra!" the varren blubbered again, binding its eyes and bringing its paws around its face, as if in some feeble attempt to protect itself. Guilt panged in Shepard's stomach, but she tried to ignore it; this was a simple varren!

"Look, it's better than—"

Another shriek pierced the air from above, completely distracting the commander and resulting in a direct relocation of her attention. In that instant, the varren reacted with fear and loped up the small slope, throwing itself at her legs and causing her to jolt backward. Immediately she fired a few aimless rounds out of panic, but upon regaining her footing she pointed the weapon directly downward, and found herself stopping to take a second to assess the situation. Adrenaline welled inside her and tempted her to press the trigger, but her mind held off the assault, relaying to her that the creature was not showing any signs of hostility.

She heaved as her eyes remained on the small creature, which was no bigger than a large household cat, and realised she was allowing empathy into her mind. The creature's body was vibrating with fear, its head down and digging into her leg. _'Maybe that wound has some effect on its mind...' _she considered, although she was not ready to make any judgements. Although she took pity on the creature, she was not inclined to give it the wrong idea. "Come on. Get off." She took a step back, but the varren, once realising that its cover had shifted, unbound itself from the earth and settled again at her feet. She gave a heavier frown, really not liking where the situation was headed. "N-no... You can't stay here. My legs belong to me."

Time and again she tried to back away from the creature, but it simply returned, even after she darted behind a boulder across the other side of the quarry, near the towering wall that marked the boundaries in one direction. She was hesitant to lead it back to Grunt, as now that she had its apparent undying loyalty, it pursued her without a second thought. He would likely shoot it on sight, assuming that it was hunting her or simply being a pest. She released several groans as she repeatedly cast her glance back to the beast and realised again how uninclined she was to simply end its life. And she had never been keen on abandonment.

"Alright," she finally said as the sound of the shuttle's thrusters began to flow through the area, "you're going. If you won't leave, then..." She extracted her pistol, intending to give it a single bullet to the head. "It's not what I want, but...I don't know what else to do."

The varren, who clearly did not understand human speech, only angled its head in her direction, large eyes of blue innocence and hope staring into hers. She tried to ignore the stare and brought up her gun, but was reminded of the creature's innocence when it nudged her or made small whimpering noises again. After a long time of staring, her mind working as she tried to come up with a solution, she finally gave up and lowered her gun. The creature seemed to pick up on the fact that its life was significantly less threatened at the lowering of the weapon and relaxed a little, although it still retained its hopeful face.

"...You're a convincing little bastard," the commander breathed, turning away as she rolled her eyes. Sometimes she hated her mercy, although she figured it was well placed on a varren, as opposed to something more dangerous. She bit at the inside of her lip and tore some skin off, once again meeting eyes with the little beast. The fear it previously held was lessening, and as much as it lightened her heart to see such a sight, it made her simultaneously uncomfortable. She scanned her options, noting that if she chose to abandon the varren, it would likely starve or become prey to the enormous bird creatures that wheeled overhead. Being torn to pieces was not a particularly enviable fate. She heaved another sigh, at a loss for what to do. "What now?"

When she stopped to think for a moment, she realised that she did, in fact, have a solution. The option was previously not clear in her mind to her, but given some time to consider it, she drew the conclusion that it just...might work.

She glanced in the direction she had come, still unable to see Grunt, and aware that the shuttle had not yet arrived. Gradually a plan began to formulate in her mind; as long as she could get to the probe before the shuttle did, then she had a chance. All it would take was to distract Grunt, and that would not be difficult.

**ooo**

"_That's _why you had me scout for more varren?" the krogan rumbled, clenching a fist as he bent an elbow. "I thought your human courage had finally burnt out. But I was wrong. It was your human _ignorance_."

"Look, I know what I did was unethical, but I couldn't just leave her there." A few crew members looked about to speak, but Shepard only raised a hand to silence them, readjusting her stern glare on each of their faces. "The point is...it's here now, and I've claimed it." She gave a small sneer and put a hand at her hip, patting the holster of her pistol. "So if anyone wants to try to take her from me..."

"Shepard, this is insanity," Miranda input as she interlaced her arms, but Shepard proceeded to cut her off with short, sharp, nasally noises sounding like fragmented words. "Shepard—"

"Ah," she interrupted.

"Shepard, stop—"

"Aahh," she continued.

Miranda stopped talking for a moment, and judging by the way she adjusted her jaw and stood taller, her face an unchanging veil of disappointment, Shepard guessed her pride had been wounded. Finally she sighed and looked away, only to return with arms locked tighter. "You're being immature."

"I don't care! This was a life I decided to save, and if anyone wants to question that, then you may as well be questioning my authority." She narrowed her eyes and leaned closer. "We can't afford that sort of triviality on this mission."

"You're bringing _that _on us now?" Jack blurted, her disgusted frown occupying most of her face.

"Discussion over," Shepard hissed, breaking away from the small crowd gathered in the CIC and heading back to her room. She didn't look over her shoulder at the creature on the floor as she grunted, "Come on, girl." Obediently the varren followed, a bounce in her step as she displayed, despite the situation, what was clearly contentment.

Garrus, who had emerged from the main battery during the story recount in confusion, gave a sigh, leaning a little as he brought a hand to his forehead. "Well...this is different."

"She's breaking protocol," Miranda stated, controlled anger in her voice as she glared at him from the side.

"Screw protocol," Jack input, waving a hand dismissively, "I like the little bitch."

Tali cleared her throat. "You really shouldn't talk about Shepard like that."

"I meant the animal, idiot," Jack sighed, rolling her eyes.

Tali stared for a second, a little baffled that Jack had missed her humour. "I know. It was a joke."

Jack only stared at her. "Whatever," she grunted and separated from the crowd. A few of the other crew members dispersed as well, many of them uninterested in pursuing the matter further.

Miranda, however, was not so keen to let this go.

**ooo**

It was always hard to predict when Shepard would be asleep. She generally ran by a day-to-day schedule, but that seemed only to affect her, as if she was replicating her hourly habits on Mindoir. It hardly fazed Miranda, however, for she had EDI to contact.

"I need you to unlock the commander's chambers," she instructed on the way up to the top deck. The elevator guided her smoothly in a skyward direction as she tried to focus herself, opening her eyes and staring at the door through a visor that dropped over part of her face. Her usually attire had been replaced by sturdier "alternate armour" for this particular task, and although it was armour, it was rather discreet. She had chosen it especially for the task she had in mind.

"May I remind you, Ms. Lawson, that the commander only permits others to enter her cabin without her permission in an emergency," the AI commented. Miranda did not flinch.

"While Shepard's command is usually final, there are times when my authority overrides hers. I am serving protocol, EDI, and she is not. That gives me jurisdiction over her quarters."

"Understood, Ms. Lawson. The request that nobody disturb her sleep cycle was personal, however. This may or may not affect your decision, but she believed it was necessary to reiterate these words to anyone with thoughts of disturbing her."

"No need to worry," Miranda uttered in a direct manner. "I won't wake her."

"Very well," EDI began as the elevator doors slid away from one another. Her voice still in the elevator's speakers, she continued, "Initiating manual override."

When the commander's door gave way, Miranda silently crept through the entrance, ducking behind the desk to the right. She slowly rose, peeking through the glass cabinet containing miniature replicas of various ships. The commander, as expected, was sound asleep. She looked at her a moment longer to ensure she had no intention – if one could have intentions during sleep – to get up. Thankfully she showed no such signs, and the XO was able to slink down the steps, crouching as she did so, while her omni-tool was lit brightly on her arm.

Immediately she could see the little black and silver varren asleep on the dark, cushy chair beside the commander's bed. She moved silently closer before she could verify that it too was sleeping, before pulling back and creeping back up the stairs. She swallowed as she thought of the possibility that she could make a noise and disturb them both. She would still go through with her plans; it would just be a little more difficult.

She focused her energy before the varren became encased in blue light. Its limbs held no stiffness that would signify control over itself as it was lifted effortlessly through the air, legs dangling, toward Miranda. She continued to take steps back, toward the door, grimacing a little as the creature floated closer. She was less than interested in holding the vermin in her arms. She extended her arms and felt the creature softly press into her armour, thankfully not stirring. With another unsteady breath, the woman drew out of the captain's quarters and slunk into the elevator, which was when the varren's weary eyes shot open.

It gave a grizzle as Miranda struggled to hold onto it, but the doors sealed before it could squirm out of her grasp and slop onto the floor. With a sigh, she crossed her arms and grunted, "You're not getting out." The varren whirled around and growled at her, and she only sneered back. "Just be grateful I didn't shoot you on-site." When the creature only gave her a look that suggested she was probably still going to, Miranda gave a small smirk. "You're a smart creature."

When she arrived in the CIC, the varren in her hands and encased in some sort of immobilising mass effect field, Kelly notified her that Joker had docked at the destination she had requested. She also seemed rather shocked by the varren's presence, and coyly requested that Miranda keep moving with it. She did so, having no intention to frighten random crew members with a what was often considered a vicious beast and proceeded to make her way through the air lock.

**ooo**

"Omega," muttered Miranda as she came into view of Afterlife. Humans and aliens alike were placed at various intervals about the place, conversing, persuading, flirting, intimidating... She shook her head as she looked about, noting the turian who stood diagonally to her left. The varren was still encased in the mass effect field she was producing, so she hoped the turian wouldn't be interested in trying to remove it from her possession. "EDI," she began, drawing her omni-tool to her chin, "which way is the buyer?"

"I believe you will need to hail a taxi to take you to a different tower, Ms. Lawson," she clarified, and Miranda gave a controlled sigh.

"Very well," she agreed, passing the turian on guard, who nodded to her, and waited alongside a salarian who was rather disinterested in chatting. He instead tended to a small contraption in his hands, not once meeting eyes with her.

After a taxi arrived, she ordered the driver to take her to a tower structure ten minutes away. No matter how much of Omega she saw, she knew she would never withdraw from her belief that it was a complete and utter "pisshole," as she chose to refer to it. The dirtiness that stuck fast to the buildings, the simplicity of the people and their criminal beliefs... When Shepard had first come to Omega and met Aria T'Loak, she had seemed extremely proud to name herself Omega's ruler. Miranda believed her pride was far misplaced, but it had not been in her best interests to say anything at the time.

Remembering the incident only made her mind wind back to Shepard. Thoughts swarmed around the recent..._odd_ happening that had occurred in Miranda's office. As well as embarrassed, she was left rather confused. She had no idea what had happened, other than that the other woman had wound up hovering over her. On her bed. She felt herself snarl as she recalled the event, trying to redirect her mind to other matters. It failed to remove itself, however, and she sighed, giving in to the curiosity and pondering the actions of her commander further.

...Had it been genuine? She found herself furious at the thought; Shepard had never shown previous interest in her – not in _that _way, anyway – so had it been purely for the reason of experimentation? She shook her head softly... If it had, then surely Shepard would not have just upped and left the moment she was in an advantageous position. In that case, did that mean she did not find Miranda appealing? Perhaps she was simply just trying to confuse her.

'_Stop it,' _she scolded, embarrassed that she found her cheeks had reddened. She tried to palm away the colour, as if it was as simple as wiping away paint, but without any luck. _'Shepard and her painful unpredictability...' _

Her focus shifted when the varren in her arms gave a small bark. She frowned down at it, wondering again why Shepard had felt the need to take pity on this creature. It was just a varren. Its beady fisheyes probed Miranda's as if in a plea for food or a scratch under the chin. She was too smart for that, however; varren were vicious, mindless predators with a taste for meat. It would surely clamp its little jaws around her fingers and likely try to rip a few off. That knowledge was more than enough to keep Miranda far from the slimy creature; she wanted no part in its existence other than when she, hopefully within the hour, handed it over to a batarian who claimed he had a good use for it. Miranda assumed that, on a planet such as Omega, a varren would make a suitable bodyguard.

She was dropped on a platform not a very long distance away, tall buildings reaching for the inky sky on her left and right as she passed down a wide surface that she assumed was a main walkway, or some sort of street. She glanced about, noting with uncomfortable interest that she felt unusually vulnerable in such an open space. As she held her jaws together and continued on, she glanced about in an effort to keep herself informed.

It did not take her long to realise that generally, she did not go anywhere without another person to accompany her. Mostly she was required to follow Shepard around, agreeing to come whenever she was called upon, but this time, she was entirely alone. She had the varren, but it was small and probably unable to fight effectively, and Miranda was hardly inclined to count the creature as legitimate battle-ready ally.

A flicker of movement between one of the buildings to her left attracted her wary eyes instantly, but whatever had moved had disappeared just as promptly. The red wash around her made it oddly difficult to discern some things from another, and she imagined that any unwelcome intruder would blend. Her mind was cast back to the operation on Omega that they were required to complete in order to gain the favour of Dr. Solus; the apartments were overrun with vorcha, and sometimes their festering forms had blended with the environment.

Trying to shake any fear from her head, she retained some sense of pride and held her chest out, ensuring her grip on the varren was not going to weaken. All she was doing was meeting somebody, anyway. She simply had to locate him amongst the clumps of tall buildings either side of her, hand over the varren, and return to the Normandy.

She extended her arm out to the side and activated her omni-tool, which showed her a small block of text indicating where the address to the batarian's house was. The tool took a further few seconds to generate a map of the surrounding area and to Miranda's dismay, she found that the alien's house was another ten minutes away. Despite being a short space of time normally, she was keen to return to the Normandy and wanted to spend as little time on this quest as she needed. Besides, the commander may have had plans after she woke up, and the way thing tended to work, she was likely to wake when Miranda was off the ship, and would seek her out to retrieve her varren. The further away they were from Omega when the commander awoke, the better.

After glancing back and finding no trace of the taxi which had driven her there, she scowled, mapping the fastest route to the tower bearing the batarian's apartment. It was a fairly straight route, which warranted a calm sigh. She tried to remain calm, anyway, for working herself up over a small detail which she would surely forget was not worth her time or effort.

Another flash to the right caught her eye. This time, the woman stopped, facing the movement she had caught sight of and focusing her attention. She listened intently, but only the sound of bustling traffic a distance from where she stood entered her ears. The long, wide street she was following remained as silent as a ghost town, giving the impression that she was less than welcome. Suddenly the idea of a varren being used as a bodyguard struck her as unlikely. There was nobody around in need of protection. The alien had not specified why he wanted the varren anyway; Miranda realised with some degree of distaste that the batarian wanted one to cook, which did not necessarily unsettle her, but she knew that if Shepard were to find out, when she personally kept the varren under her protection, she would not be happy.

Another flash of movement caught her off guard, and this time, she heard accompanying growls. She swallowed a glob of saliva, attempting to replace any sort of momentary fear with anger. She summoned biotic energy, which surrounded her arms, trailing down to her hands. The glow was very faint, but any sort of further threat would certainly elicit a higher concentration. The confined varren emitted a few low growls.

Miranda glanced down at it disapprovingly, but the creature's sights were focused in a single direction, which also happened to catch her attention. A feeling of uneasiness welled in her as figures swapped places behind buildings and she saw a flash of skin. Her nose twitched in agitation as she stared, trying not to allow something stronger than uneasiness grip her.

It was then that she heard a gargling hiss from behind her, and she flicked her head around, hair catching up shortly after, only to spot a vorcha a small amount shorter than her saunter out from behind a set of metal, tall-reaching houses. She felt some of the pressure in her mind alleviate; it was just a vorcha. However, another question posed itself in her mind: what was it doing lurking around in a residential area?

Another hiss sounded from the depths of the creature's throat with a rumble that sounded as if he was juggling mucus. His contorted face of an odd shape bearing the many toothpick-like teeth lining up beside one another was in full view, the vein-like composure of his skin entirely discernible. His walk was thick but imprecise, and between his three-fingered hands was an assault rifle.

"Why human come here?" he demanded, his voice husky but slimy. Miranda only narrowed her eyes. "This Blood Pack territory!"

"I have business with a batarian in this area. I was not told this was Blood Pack territory."

"Silence!" he grumbled, tightening his grip on the gun. Miranda could tell that he was keen to use it, but something – probably orders given by another – stopped him. "You get punishment for coming here."

The woman kept her eyes firmly on the vorcha as others appeared around her, and although she acknowledged their presence, she was aware that they were only back-up and therefore were not intent on using force on her unexpectedly. Her eyes returned to the vorcha before her. "I have a delivery in this area," she told him firmly. "After it's done, I won't have to be here anymore."

"No! You do not have business here," he insisted, slashing one of his arms diagonally through the air in defiance. "This our platform!"

Miranda was tempted to question when that started happening, on account of how she was sure that vorcha did not occupy other parts of Omega, but decided against it. "Look, I just want to do my delivery and then I'll be—"

Suddenly the vorcha issued a spray of fire, the bullets puncturing the ground beside Miranda's boots. The shock caused her to release her hold on the mass effect field around the varren for but a second, and in that time, the creature took advantage of its freedom. It slipped through Miranda's fingers and was gone in an instant, scampering off across the street. The vorcha behind her fired at the beast, but thankfully most bullets missed, and the creature escaped between some buildings with only a punctured leg.

She threw a fierce look to the leader and clenched her fists. "_That _was what I was delivering. You just made a bad situation worse."

As she started to go after it, the vorcha stepped in her way. She gave him a look close to bewilderment, but the creature barely registered her attempt at intimidation. "You not go after it! This Blood Pack territory; not for filthy _human_!"

Quickly the forms of vorcha began to swarm in around her, and a cloud of warning began to flash in her mind. She felt the back of her neck prickle at the thought of the creatures' next step, which was likely something violent. She understood that the vorcha largely communicated through their physical and malicious ways, simply because that was their culture and all they knew, and therefore it was unmistakable that she was under great threat. The thought of having to fend off so many was not at all a pleasant one, but at the same time, she was a powerful biotic with extensive training...she could handle them.

"Don't let her escape!" hissed the one who appeared to be the leader, and Miranda's nose scrunched into a sneer.

She backed up, her hands crackling with summoned electric-blue energy. Despite genuinely believing that she should take cover, for an advantage was best achieved when she was safe from bullets, there was no way she could escape the circle she had been enclosed in. With a scowl, she immediately erected a shield around her, and was shocked to find that the impact from one of the varren's guns, which he fired immediately after the mass effect field had materialised, almost sent her tumbling over. When she regained herself, she realised that the barrier would not be enough; any more fire and she would be forced to take it down.

The head vorcha seemed to realise this and he grinned with a snarl, raising his submachine gun. A spray of bullets hammered against the shield, taking a bigger toll on Miranda than she realised it would, and she immediately made the decision to relocate. She had had limited training in shield construction, and moving while keeping it active was something else altogether. As she began to push her way through the vorcha, they began to be forced back.

The leader called for an immediate full-blown assault, and all those who weren't closest to her – for they tried to engage in a physical assault as she slipped by – unloaded clips into the shield, almost instantly demolishing it as Miranda struggled and failed to fend off the overload of bullets.

The moment the shield wore off, there was a momentary pause in the assault invited by surprise that her shield had vanished, and in that instant, the Cerberus officer whirled around and cast an instant bolt of biotic energy in the centre of the circle she was still dangerously close to, the explosion forcing back anyone caught in the radius and damaging any shields that may have been active.

Unfortunately, as several of the vorcha soared backwards when the impact forced them to, so did she. She released a grunt of surprise as she was driven to the ground, feeling the effects of her warp abilities disable her defences as well, leaving her in somewhat of a daze. She forced herself to her feet, trying her hardest to withdraw her pistol and aim it at a few vorcha. A duo of bullets shot from the barrel and planted themselves into two of the hideous creatures, one above an eye and one through the neck, both aliens collapsing as one clung to life and the other falling permanently.

"Get her!" yelled the lead vorcha, the disturbing hiss and crackle of his voice making his order that much creepier.

His servants needed no further convincing as they began to fire at her again and, in a panic, Miranda tried to erect her mass effect field barrier once more. It faltered at first and three bullets grazed her body. With a cry she forced her power to strengthen, hardening the air around her as a shield was temporarily put into place.

It remained so for only a short period, the time during which she was able to escape down a staircase leading presumably to some sort of subway. She momentarily considered the idea ridiculous before she continued down, only to find that, to her horror, it was an abandoned subway station, which she imagined travelled the outside of the small platform island for the residents to use. However, since its abandonment, she could clearly see that it had become infested with more vorcha than she would have thought could live there.

She froze instantly. She had no idea how she would get out of this one.


End file.
